Ride the Wind
by SwiftintheSky
Summary: Fox, Storm, Straw, Fawn, and Cloudy are no ordinary kits. They are Gifted, bearing powers not yet unleashed. Eventually, they escape from the horrible Colony and are led to join the Clans. But soon, as tensions rise in their new home and changes occur in Twolegplace, they are forced to face their past... ABANDONED
1. Chapter 1: Fox

**A/N: To fans of my other stories (Mostly The Warriors Games) - Okay, yes, I am horrible for spending a week writing this new story instead of updating my old ones. But I must listen to my creative demons, or inspiration as most call it, and they would not let me write for The Warriors Games or Chasing Dreams. Thus I bring you this. '^_^**

**To new people: Welcome! I'm quite excited about this story, actually. And while it currently seems to have nothing to do with the Clans, after 6 chapters or so it leads to the Clans. Stick with me through the really confusing stuff of the first few chapters - aaaall will be revealed. :)**

* * *

Fox tensed. She squared her shoulders and planted her paws firmly on the ground, tail lashing and eyes narrowed as she faced her opponent. He was bigger than she was, several moons older at least. She would have to use speed to her advantage. Thorn-sharp claws unsheathed, she leaped.

The young bluish-gray tom was unprepared and she managed to score her claws down his shoulder, but he batted her away with a powerful paw to the stomach. Wincing, she tumbled across the dusty ground. She scrambled to her paws, eyes wide, as he barrelled toward her and barely sidestepped. He skidded to a stop, ears flattened, spine fur bristling, and leaped again. She ducked, then twirled and pounced, fangs sinking into his back leg. He yowled and struggled free, throwing her back several paces. As she hit the ground, he jumped onto her, pinning her down firmly, sharp claws pricking her shoulders. She glared up at him hatefully.

"Good job, Drop!" came a yowl from the sidelines. Several Colonists looked on approvingly as Drop clambered off of her with a modest dip of his head. Fox got to her paws, shaking dust from her pelt with a muttered curse. Now that the battle's excitement had faded, her scratches stung, seeping crimson blood.

"As for you, Fox..." The four-moon-old kit cringed as she turned to the owner of the voice, Moth, one of the two leaders of the Colony. Her fur was pale gray with delicate, wing-like darker dapples and pale green eyes. She shook her head and went on, "If your Gift doesn't show up in another moon or two, we may have to start pitting you against Colonists or even Elites. Keep that in mind."

_Elites!_ Fear, then anger pulsed through Fox. _It isn't my fault it hasn't shown yet! For all I know I don't have one!_ Though she knew, she did. The mark on her paw proclaimed it for all to see. Her only hope was that Jay would come more often. He wouldn't let them make her face Elites!

"Back to the den," Moth instructed crossly. Fox glared, stalking over to the cramped underground den she shared with her friends. Fox regretted the cocky attitude instantly as Moth cuffed her over the ear, hard, and shoved her in the rest of the way. The speckled gray she-cat pushed the stone over the entrance just enough so that Fox could see out, but couldn't _get_ out.

Disheartened, the bright ginger she-kit plopped down with a sigh. She turned slowly to check who else was in with her.

Two of her three denmates were currently imprisoned, both curled up in a sleeping heap, as often was the case given there wasn't much else to do unless the Colonists pulled them out. There was a very pale ginger tabby tom, Straw, the same age she was, and Fawn, a mottled brown she-cat who was 2 moons younger. Straw was a blind, intelligent, easily annoyed joker, and Fawn was an optimistic, energetic, girly-girl chatterbox. Their other denmate, Storm (also 4 moons old), was nowhere to be seen. As he was strong for his age, the Colonists often used him in matches like the one she had been in, or physical labor.

Fox curled up next to Straw and Fawn, trying to forget her new scratches with the warm soft comfort of their fur. Fawn snuggled up closer to Fox unconsciously, and an unbidden smile flitted across the ginger kit's face.

* * *

A heart-stopping screech of pain made Fox jolt awake. Straw was already up, muscles taut as he peered through the den's small opening. By the time another shriek rent the cool evening air, even deep sleeper Fawn was rising. Frightened, Fox crouched, ears flat on her head. Her unease only grew when a Colonist rushed over, shoved in a disgruntled Storm, and dashed off without even bothering to roll the stone back into place.

"Wh-what's happening?" Fawn cried, voice high with alarm.

Storm, a very dark gray, almost black tom with darker stripes, sat up and gave his coat a shake. The often-stoic tom-kit appeared ruffled as he glanced anxiously back at the entrance. Finally, he mewed, "Sky's kitting."

Fox's eyes widened, but she cringed as another agonized scream pierced her eardrums. Poor Sky! The white-and-gray she-cat was the oldest of the Gifted at the Colony. She could jump incredibly high and then "glide" down as though she had wings on her paws. When they'd discovered her pregnancy, Fox was only 2 and a half moons old. She wasn't sure how kits were made, but she'd heard that Sky didn't exactly want the kits, and the Colonists had somehow made her have them. Now, she would finally get to see the kits... _If Sky survives having them,_ she added silently as Sky yowled again, only this time her voice was muffled by something.

"Hey! Fawn!" Storm hissed. Fox blinked and realized that the younger she-kit was halfway out the den entrance. She turned and looked at them owlishly.

"Fawn, get back here," Straw mewed in an almost bored tone. Her tail drooped as she crept back sheepishly. She almost always obeyed Straw, since he was basically the only one who could put up with her endless chattering.

A familiar male voice rang out just then. "How's she doing?" _Jay!_ Fox's ears pricked, and she crept to the edge of the den as Fawn was now doing.

"Relatively well," reported the voice which belonged to Dragonfly, Moth's sister and the other leader of the Colony. "She'll pull through, though a kit or two may be lost." The white and silver-dappled she-cat she-cat's voice was tight with annoyance.

"Unacceptable," muttered Jay. "You've given her raspberry leaf, haven't you? A stick? Told her when to push?"

"Yes, yes, no," Dragonfly answered, sounding even more ticked off, if that were possible.

"Well, do so!" Jay snapped.

Dragonfly let out a low growl. "Who leads this Colony, Jay? Me or you?" She paused, as if reining in her temper, and added more smoothly, "Need I remind you that Freya still basically depends on your service to keep her from becoming another Sky?"

Jay growled in return, but soon cut himself off.

"He's in Sky's den," Straw reported, his blind blue eyes sliding closed in concentration. "Sky is moving, like she's in pain, but Jay is talking to her."

Despite her worry, Fox felt a burst of jealousy for Straw. Of the four of them, he was the only one to have discovered his Gift. He could feel tiny vibrations in the ground, giving him a vivid image of what was going on around him. Though his blindness impaired him in a lot of ways, his Gift sometimes gave him an edge over seeing cats in what was going on around him.

Suddenly, Straw's ears pricked and he let out a delighted gasp. Just then, one more caterwaul splintered the air. Fox's heart quickened. "The first kit?" she gasped at the same time Fawn burst out, "Was one born? Was one born?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," Straw meowed, sounding faintly amused. Long minutes slid by (5... 10... 15...) until Straw smiled and Jay's face appeared in the entrance of the den.

Fox jumped up. "Did any of the kits die, like Dragonfly said?" she demanded.

Jay broke into a purr. "Nope, three healthy kits were born, right on schedule."

"What do they look like?" Storm asked quietly.

Jay smiled and explained, "There's one silver she-kit, Puddle, and two toms - a white-and-gold, Flash, and a white-and-gray, Cloudy. Cloudy is Gifted."

Fox purred as she pictured them. They sounded so cute! But as Jay left, she caught Storm with an expression on his face she could only describe as, well, stormy. She quickly realized why and her smile faltered.

These kits would suffer the same fate as Fox, Sky, and all the other Gifted. They would always be trapped here, in this foxhole of a Colony.

Like them, these kits would never truly know freedom.

* * *

**A/N: So, the first chapter! And it was intentionally really confusing. A lot will be revealed in the next several chapters. Also, if all goes as planned, this story will be the first in a series of an unspecified number of books, and will feature six POVs. We met 5 in this chapter. Next POV: Storm. :)**

**PS: The next chapter is almost twice as long. :D**


	2. Chapter 2: Storm

**A/N: On to Chapter Two! This one is a lot longer and reveals a bit about the workings of the mysterious Colony. Review replies~**

**Amber342 - Thanks for your concrit. And yes, six POVs does seem like a heckuvalot, but all the cats will basically be in the same place at the same time, so that will hopefully help. Anyway, I'm giving it a whirl and seeing what happens. :)**

**Warriorsgeek512 - Thanks! (wonders how that wasn't confusing... cuz it almost confused me when I wrote it xD)**

**Cinderstar377 - Jay is supposed to be a bit of a mystery at the moment. He's not officially attached to the Colony per se but is somewhat 'on duty' there... he can be called away if need be. I think he's technically around Dragonfly's level of authority, plus more experience, but he still pretty much has to listen to her on account of the Colony being 'her domain' of sorts.**

**Erin Hunteress - Alright! I've already thought of a way to fit her in, though she'll be a Clan cat. :)**

**PS: If you're a reader of Chasing Dreams or The Warriors Games, I'm sorry for not updating yet... I just seem to have lost all inspiration on those stories for the time being. :( I'm definitely not giving up, but they're... somewhat on hiatus at the moment. :( My summer has been surprisingly busy so far.**

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Storm was awakened from a restless slumber by a sharp wailing, piercing his heart with worry and alarm. Sky.

_"NO! MY KIT! BRING MY KIT BACK TO ME!"_ she screeched. Storm's eyes widened. They were... taking one of Sky's kits? Was it dead? Jay had said they were healthy!

Beside him, Fox, Straw, and Fawn stirred, startled.

_"FLASH! _Oh, Flash..." Sky whimpered. Storm's heart tightened. He'd seen the kits for the first time just yesterday, when he was delivering prey to their mother. They were a week old, healthy, tiny, adorable, and strong - Flash perhaps the strongest. What could the Colonists want with a week-old kit?

He crawled up to the entrance of the den, ears pricked. The voice of a tom - Scythe, dark gray, one of the meanest cats in the Colony - cut through the air. "We have no use for your little whelp," he growled. "All it's doing is eating up precious prey and taking up space. Your other two we have uses for, but this - we have none. There's no room for useless cats here."

"Please, Scythe!" Sky begged, and Storm's heart broke. "I'll do anything you want. _Anything!_ Take the test, fight others, spy, give as many kits as you want! Just spare my son, _please!_"

Scythe chuckled, a low, dry, chilling sound. "You'll do all those things whether you like it or not. And we're getting rid of this little resource-waster, whether you like it or not."

Sky howled brokenly as Scythe slowly padded away.

* * *

"Those _snakehearts!_" Fox snarled. She paced the length of their den (which was, admittedly, very small), tail lashing, eyes flashing, fur bristling. "How could they do that? They're _evil!_"

Storm nodded bleakly, and Fawn's eyes welled up with tears, but Straw just stood and meowed quietly, "Well, they did it. What can we do about it?"

Fox stared at him in shock before hissing, "How could you say that? Someone, someday, will make them _pay!_ For _all_ of this!"

"I agree," Storm muttered darkly. "Something must be done." Fox looked at him in surprise, and he added slowly, "Just not by us... not yet."

Straw sighed, robin's-egg-blue eyes slipping closed. "You can't go saying things like that. Get angry and they get rid of you."

Shock pervaded the den, and suddenly Fox burst out in a hushed, tight whisper, _"Straw!"_

The tabby tom's eyes snapped open and he hissed, "Don't think I don't agree with you. I do. But here, in the Colony, saying things like that only gets you killed."

Fox lowered her eyes, muttering sorrowfully, "You're right." Fawn finally gave up and burst out crying.

And so the four kits huddled, silent, fur brushing fur, heads bent, backs slumped. The weight of the world rested on their young shoulders. And softly, the rest of them began to cry, processing the loss. Processing the miserable muddle that was their lives.

* * *

**_One week later..._**

"You didn't get that one, Storm," snapped Moth. The young tom bit back a hiss of frustration. He bent low over Moth's pelt, his sharp teeth crushing another flea. He crossly spat it out on the ground beside her. The gray she-cat stood, giving her pelt an experimental shake. "Good. Now take some food and water to Sky," she ordered. Storm's ears flattened uncomfortably. Since Flash's death, the bereaved queen had spent a lot of time staring blankly into space, swamped by sorrow. Moth added, as an afterthought, "Actually, the hunting party isn't back yet, so go fetch some from them."

Among many of the duties the Gifted cats had to take up was hunting for the Colony. Three or so Gifted would be sent out while a single Colonist flashed through the trees, keeping an eye on them, ensuring they didn't make a break for it. Sometimes they'd hunt sunup to sundown, periodically returning to cache their catch at the Colony. It was early in the morning, though, and they hadn't returned with their first load yet, hence Moth sending Storm out to find them.

He padded over to the entrance, a narrow path between two boulders. The Colony rested in a dry, rocky region, tucked away in a mess of tumbling boulders. The path was the only easy way in and out of camp; otherwise, you'd have to brave climbing over the rocks, which was difficult and would undoubtedly send down loudly clacking pebbles.

A young Colonist whose name Storm had never learned was guarding the entrance. He explained his errand in as few words as possible, and when the Colonist nodded, glancing at Moth, he padded through the entrance and into the world beyond.

Pale, sun-heated rocks made up a strange world punctuated by browning grass, scraggly bushes, and stunted trees. However, pick your way over a few rises, and sparse forest began to grow as the earth sloped downhill, gradually leveling and thickening as you went along. It took quite a while to get to where the hunting was best, which was why the hunting party only returned a few times a day.

As he travelled towards the woods, the thought of running was there, as it always was. Prickling at the edge of his mind, constant, refusing to go away. Here, though, "running" meant one of three things: often torture, sometimes death, and rarely... rarely... escape. The miniscule chance of the latter was enough, though, that undoubtedly someone tried every few moons.

"Hey! Storm!" came a faint cry. Storm jumped slightly and searched for the noise's source, blinking in surprise when he found the hunting party bounding up the hill toward him. It was made up of Straw, Drop, and Hattie, a young she-cat and former kittypet whose Gift - her appearance reflected her mood - was fairly worthless. A cross-looking Colonist, Dust, followed. All were carrying prey.

"What are you doing out here?" Dust demanded suspiciously.

"Moth sent me to fetch prey for Sky," he replied simply, glaring. Dust glared back fiercely, as though contemplating slicing him across the face.

"Make yourself useful, then," muttered the brown tabby, and thrust the prey he was carrying at Storm. Sighing quietly, he grasped the prey in his jaws and bounded after his friends. As he walked alongside them, he noticed a... change in them. Drop carried himself with quiet determination, eyes narrowed. Straw looked frustrated. Hattie's pelt was dull brown, her eyes a worried blue.

When they reached camp, Dust, of course, went in first, followed quickly by Drop and Hattie. But Straw hesitated several paces behind, and finally hissed, voice barely audible, "Drop's running." Then he whisked beneath the twin boulders, leaving a wide-eyed Storm staring after him.

_Drop... running?_ Storm had never truly witnessed one of the Gifted making a break for it, but he'd heard stories, horrifying stories. The last attempted escape was 3 moons ago, by a young tom known as Gizmo. According to Slate, Gizmo was sent to gather water-soaked moss alone and had not returned. A couple hours later, a search party ensued, and a couple hours after that, they returned with his bleeding form. They locked him in a den alone for several days, and his cries would be heard at night. After several days, the Colonists returned and found he had slit his own throat. The young cat, being unable to face more torture, and knowing that afterwards he would just be confined to the same horrible existence in the Colony, had chosen to end his life.

The last successful escape had been nearly a season-cycle ago.

Now, as Storm padded into camp through the brisk leaf-fall air with a mouse and a soaked moss ball for Sky, his mind whirled. What would happen to Drop? The three possibilities danced through his mind. _Torture, death, escape. Torture, death, escape._

But even as these thoughts swirled around his mind, he managed to keep his face calm save for the slightly troubled look in his eyes. With great self-control he walked into Sky's den, where the white-and-blue-gray she-cat was curled around her two remaining kits. Storm had to wonder why they'd thrown out Flash but kept the other non-Gifted kit, Puddle. _The Colonists never make sense!_

"Hello, Sky," he mewed. The queen lifted her head, blinking blearily up at him.

"Oh, hi, Storm," she murmured as he laid the mouse and moss-ball at her paws. Pity and worry stirred and mixed in Storm's heart. Neither Sky or her kits looked too good. Puddle and Cloudy were a mere halfmoon old, and Sky was already expecting again. She looked tired, weary, and simply hopeless, but she seemed more lucid than she had been for the past quarter-moon. Meanwhile, the kits had caught a cold as late leaf-fall progressed; they were thin little things, giving tiny coughs at regular intervals. He was especially concerned about Puddle, the runt of the litter. Of course, these thoughts flickered across his face only in passing.

"Jay is bringing some tansy tomorrow," she mewed wearily but hopefully. "And catmint, in case they get worse."

Storm nodded. Jay was a good cat. Of course, the other Colonists didn't want any of their charges to die, either. It was Dragonfly who'd requested that Jay bring it, the night before. The difference was that the other Colonists were fully prepared to use force, and Jay just... wasn't.

"Cloudy is already a little trooper," Sky went on, as if to assure herself more than Storm. "And Puddle is a determined little girl."

At that moment, Cloudy raised his head, blinking up his baby blues, and let out a wordless mew. Puddle stirred beside him and crawled up to his side, resting her chin on his back with a petite yawn. Sky gazed down at them, blue eyes full of love.

"I'll leave you to them," Storm murmured. As he padded silently out of the den, Sky whispered, "Thank you, Storm."

* * *

Later that evening, Storm, Straw, and Fox were all curled up in their cramped little den. It was around the time when all the Gifted were returned to their dens if they hadn't been in them already. The three had been reunited a few minutes before. But something was nagging at their minds, preventing them from falling asleep.

"Fawn still isn't back," muttered Fox. "They took her two whole days ago. If the hurt her, I'll - I'll - " Her little silver claws dug into the earth, her voice rising increasingly. She cut herself off, and silence reigned in the den because everyone was thinking the same thing: firstly, they probably _were_ hurting her, and secondly, if they were there wasn't a thing they could do about it. Honestly, Storm was worried too, but he wouldn't let his mask slip. Not for a second. How else would he survive this house of horrors?

Straw stiffened a split second before it happened.

_"HEY! GET BACK HERE!"_ barked a voice he recognized as Scythe's. The three kits bolted for the entrance to the den, vying for the best view out of the narrow entrance. Soon Fox ended up on the bottom, Storm peering over her head, blind Straw hovering behind them.

Scythe was standing in the center of the sunset-streaked clearing, glancing around madly. Several other Colonists were standing on high alert. The clearing darkened suddenly as clouds gathered forbiddingly in the sky. Fog rolled in nearly instantly, severely obscuring visibility.

That's when Storm knew: _Drop._ The young tom's Gift was to control the weather. _He was making a break for it._

"Where is he?" Scythe screeched. "Everyone! Search! _Now!_"

Even though Scythe wasn't exactly in a position of high authority, every Colonist scrambled to follow his command. The escape of a Gifted cat could not be tolerated, that they knew. They dashed through the swirling, writhing mist in pursuit of Drop.

Storm knew the young cat's window of escape was narrow and closing. If he hadn't dashed out the front entrance by now, in the confusion, he was probably crouching under a bush somewhere. He'd have to brave climbing the rocks or run for the entrance past all these searching, seething cats, which would be almost impossible.

"Ah-ha!" came a triumphant shriek. "There you are, you little worm!" It was Moth. Her voice was quickly followed by an injured cry from Drop.

"They're fighting," Straw whispered, eyes screwed shut, muscles tight, concentrating intensely.

Suddenly Storm could see them. Drop whisked past their den, followed rapidly by Moth, who tensed for a split second and pounced. The pair soon came tumbling back into sight, and before long, the larger Moth pinned Drop securely.

Other Colonists crept in like jackals, slowly surrounding the eight-moon-old tom. Trapping him.

_Torture, death, escape._

His punishment would be severe, and by the look on Drop's face, he knew it. "Well, well, well. Thought you could get away from us, did you?" Dragonfly chuckled acidly.

Drop was panicking, eyes wide as twin moons. He trembled beneath Moth's paws. His eyes slid closed, as if hoping for some hidden help from his Gift. But Storm knew the fog-and-clouds trick was about the extent of Drop's powers so far. The most he could do was call up a rainshower. He was caught.

Moth grabbed him by the scruff, heaving him towards a cramped little bush Storm had never seen in use. He gulped. Torture it was, then.

Suddenly, though, a change came over Drop. He'd let himself be dragged, but then he stood on his own four paws. His eyes snapped open, determined. Their green shade flashed yellow, and suddenly the stormclouds above began roiling and writhing in the darkened sky. The Colonists blinked, surprised, wary, and Moth started running with Drop's scruff in her jaws.

Then -

_**KRAKL HISS steammm**_

A giant bolt of pure light darted from the sky before the cats' very eyes with an unbelievable cacophony, leaving the ground sizzled and blackened, the cats half-blinded. Moth stumbled away from Drop as a tremendous thunderclap also left them half-deaf. Every cat crouched, terrified, awed - Drop included. Then, suddenly, he shook his head, stood, and raced out of the Colonists' camp as lashing rain began to batter the earth.

When Storm burst out of his daze, coming to his senses, he barely heard Dragonfly screaming for cats to follow him.

Drop had done it. He'd really done it.

Drop had escaped.

* * *

**YAY**


	3. Chapter 3: Straw

**A/N: Arrrg this was going to be longer but then I had to cut it short because I couldn't fit it in without it sounding bad... So yeah. Review replies.**

**Cinderstar377 - Actually, I was thinking more of he didn't _know_ he had that power, but in his desperation to escape, he tried to use his power and it just sorta happened.**

**Erin Hunteress - Thank you very much! I try to make stuff epic. ;D**

**Butterfly That Flies At Dawn - LOL yay for hyper people**

**Amber342 - Thank you! And as for the sound effects, well, I couldn't think of a good way to continue without them, without making the scene sound awkward. It was kind of a transition.**

* * *

_He did it. He made it!_ Shock pulsed through Straw. Drop had left the Colony, he really had. And to think Straw had tried so hard to convince him not to go.

Suddenly, escape didn't seem so far off to Straw, either. If Drop could make it, why couldn't he?

...though there was the problem of his friends. If Straw managed to escape without his best buddies and denmates - Storm, Fox, and Fawn - he'd feel guilty for leaving them behind for the rest of his life. They hadn't even found their Gifts yet and would be hard to bring along.

For now, Straw was being left alone. In fact, it was a rare day of respite for the Colony's Gifted. All thanks to Drop, of course. It was near sunhigh the next day, and everyone was consumed with finding the escaped tom. In fact, a number of Elites had been called in to help.

Straw had only been in the presence of Elites a couple of times in his life. Before Slate, a tom one-and-a-half season-cycles old, had discovered his Gift, they had made him fight Elites several times to try to force it to activate. That had actually worked in his case; the long-limbed tom had transformed into a fox and killed the Elite he'd been fighting, and had to be subdued by the other surrounding Colonists.

Now, there were four of them milling about in the clearing beyond. He wasn't sure exactly what was up with them, but they were definitely... _different_ than other cats. Their vibrations were heavier, stronger than the Colonists' or Gifteds'. They also had a distinct, sharp scent. Straw had once asked Fox to tell him about them and she'd described huge, muscular cats, their claws dog-tooth-strengthened, with strange, wickedly sharp teeth and wild eyes. They sounded terrifying.

Straw's ears flicked as he sensed pawsteps, vibrations in the ground. There was a loud patter of paws as a cat leaped onto a platform. He knew by the location and the leaf-rustles that it was a stunted tree Dragonfly and Moth used whenever they wanted to get the Colony's attention.

"Cats of the Colony!" Ah, it was the latter, then. "We thank the Elites for coming to assist us. As you all know, Drop may have left the Colony's physical boundaries, but he has in no way slipped from our clutches. With the Elites' help, we are sure to find him!"

On either side of him, Fox and Storm stiffened. Straw knew they would search for him... he just hoped they wouldn't find him. If they did, who knew if he could conjure up lightning again - and whether it could deter all four Elites? Their calls echoed in his ears as they thundered out of camp. He closed his eyes, scanning the camp with his nose. Dragonfly and Scythe had gone with them.

Fox sat up and stretched, while Storm stirred at his side. Suddenly Fox mewed, "Jay is coming!"

Straw focused, quickly identifying the tom's scent. There was a sudden flurry of sound and movement ahead.

"You _idiot!_" Moth hissed. Vibrations echoed through the ground. Fox gasped, and Straw cursed his blindness. By Jay's grunt as he got to his paws, though, Straw could guess that Moth had attacked him.

"What happened, Moth?" Jay asked scathingly.

"Drop escaped while you were gone!" Moth yowled angrily. "If you were here you could have found him already. Where have you been?!"

"Moth," Jay began patiently, "you know very well where I've been. And there's no guarantee I could find him, you know that works much better with cats I'm acquainted with."

"Oh, you're 'acquainted' with him well enough," Moth growled. "Admit it. You're on _their_ side, aren't you? You never get cross at them, seem like it'd kill you to knock one around."

Jay was beginning to sound annoyed. "Moth, that's a sign of self-restraint, not allegianece. Admit it, you're just lashing out at me because you're angry Drop escaped."

Moth sighed. When she spoke again, she sounded much more controlled. "Maybe so. But I still want you to try it, okay?"

"Of course. But first I'll take the tansy to Sk - "

"One of the Gifted can do that," Moth interrupted. "Our search for Drop is much more pressing."

"Alright." Soon Straw felt Jay's pawsteps, fading into the distance, and Moth's, heading toward them.

The she-cat's breath was hot on his neck as she meowed, "Straw, take these to Sky."

Straw rose to his paws, giving his coat a shake, and wordlessly accepted the herbs from Moth. Their scent was sharp and oddly pleasing in his nostrils. He felt the stone roll out of place, fresh air caress his fur. He stepped out of the den, glad to get some exercise, however little.

_Cursed herbs._ They clouded his sense of smell, making him feel even blinder than usual. Vibrations of cats all around camp disoriented him. It was pretty much memory alone that carried him into Sky's den. As he set the herbs on the ground he greeted, "Hey, Sky."

The gentle she-cat shifted, one of the kits at her belly stirring. "Oh, hi, Straw. Are those herbs?" Her breath tickled his paws as she leaned over, sniffing the clump of leaves.

"Yeah," he replied. "Tansy I think."

"Good. Maybe they'll help my kits." The leaves rustled slightly as she took them, and the air stirred as she drew back with a small sigh.

By 'kits' she probably meant Puddle. Straw could tell by scent that Cloudy had been the one moving. The aroma of sickness hung over both of them, but it was thicker on the small she-kit.

"Describe them to me," Straw demanded suddenly, instantly feeling a bit silly for asking. Fox, Storm, and Fawn did so all the time (mostly Fawn, he thought with a pang), but he'd known them ever since he was little.

To his surprise, Sky purred, "Okay." She paused for a moment, as though gathering her thoughts. "Well, Cloudy has long fluffy fur. He's mostly white, like a cloud. He also has some big gray patches. His eyes are blue, like mine. His build is a bit short and stocky, just like..." Her voice trailed off sorrowfully, and she swept on before Straw could ask any questions. "Puddle looks quite a bit different. Her fur is short and the softest I've ever known. She's a gray tabby with yellow eyes... She got my slimmer form, though you can't really tell with all my long fur." She let out a chuckle and asked, "Did you get a good picture of them?"

"Yeah... I did." He gave his chest a swift lick to hide his embarrassment.d

"...What's it like?" Sky whispered. "To have sight for your first three moons and then... not?"

Straw stiffened. She had _not_ just asked that. She hadn't.

She did.

"Probably about the same as losing Flash!" he snapped.

He barely heard her shocked and hurt gasp as he fled the den.

* * *

Straw hadn't always been blind. But he tried to forget that. Tried so, so hard to forget that.

...Which was hard considering he'd only lost his sight a moon and a half ago.

He was three moons old. He was sick, very sick. Illness had spread rapidly through the Colony, infecting everyone young, old, and inbetween. The Colonists had to prioritize. They treated themselves first, then all the Gifted who had already discovered their Gifts. They were almost out of herbs by then, and sickly little Straw was considered a lost cause; they wouldn't waste any of their precious herbs on him. He was as good as dead.

But he lived.

He lived, through the burning fever and hacking coughs and biting cold. The weakness, the hunger, the hallucinations.

When he dragged himself through it - was lucid enough for the first time in weeks to have conscious thoughts - he opened his eyes and saw nothing.

They said he was lucky.

He didn't think so.

* * *

**A/N: Next POV - Fawn. We can see where she's been all this time! :)**


	4. Chapter 4: Fawn

**A/N: It's HERE, folks! The long-awaited update to Ride the Wind! More people are starting to like this thing, happily. And this chapter is from the POV of Fawn, one of my favorite characters so far. Review replies!**

**Cinderstar377 - I know, right! Straw! *huggles* *gets bitten* And as for Fawn, well, you'll find out now. :)**

**Kitko Hime - Thanks! I can't say I updated _soon_ per se, but this isn't all that long of a wait considering some of my wait times.**

**Erin Hunteress - Yes. Having sight and than losing it is probably like twice as bad as never having it. :(**

**Rama Amourah - Thank you! And sure, I'll check out your story. I DO, in fact, have a Fictionpress account, though it's rarely used. I've recently decided to start posting my poetry on there, though.**

**Crystalmoon12345 - AHHH! RAINBOW UNICORNS! OH MY GOD IT'S SO INTENSE! Lol. Here ya go. ;D**

* * *

Fawn stirred groggily. Hunger screamed through her every vein, crippling her. Her paws ached from endless wanderings, and weariness fogged her mind. She dragged herself to her paws and stumbled over to the bubbling brook nearby. She drank and drank until she had the illusion of being on the edge of hunger.

A twig cracked behind her, and she jumped, tail bushing out. _A Colonist?_ she thought hopefully (which was odd - who thought she'd ever _want_ to see a Colonist?). Turning slowly, she stared straight into a pair of burning yellow eyes framed by soft gray fur.

"Dr-Drop?" she stammered. Her voice was strange from lack of use, and hollow with hunger.

"Fawn!" He sounded surprised. "Where have you been?"

"Th-they just dropped me off out here a few days ago," she mewed sadly. "I guess they were trying to find my Gift... since I'm not old enough to fight..." Her stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, and her ears flattened in embarrassment.

The young tom's eyes gleamed sympathetically, and Fawn noticed the small bundle of fur at his paws for the first time as he nudged it toward her. "Here." Her eyes widened; a mouse! She just spared a second to squeak "thank you!" before she fell on it, devouring it, reducing it to a pile of scraps and bones in moments. She smacked her lips, relishing the taste, the best she'd ever eaten. She wasn't... _full_, but her hunger was down to a manageable, dull, nagging level.

She frowned. "Wait... why are you out here alone? Are you on hunting duty?" Her eyes darted from side to side. "No one's supposed to eat the prey you catch on hunting duty! Spirits, Drop, they'll - "

"I'm not," he interrupted her.

"Not what?"

"Not on hunting duty," he explained patiently.

She cocked her head to one side, puzzled. "Then what - "

At this he straightened up, his chest seeming to puff out a bit. "I escaped."

Fawn simply stared, eyes wide, jaw falling open. "_E-escaped?!_" she stammered. Suddenly she bubbled up, and words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Ohmyspirits Drop, that's _great_! How did you do it? Are they looking for you? Where will you go?" She gasped abruptly. "What are you still doing here?! They'll find you! Killing you! Of all the mouse-brained - "

Suddenly her mouth was full of fur. Gray fur. She stopped herself, physically clamping her jaws shut, and looked up to see Drop with his tail flicked over her muzzle. He drew it away slowly. He looked nervous now, the fur along his spine spiked slightly. "I - I'm not leaving. I won't. I... I'm going to help everyone else."

Her eyes went round. "You mean - "

He cut her off. "Y-yeah." He took a deep breath. "Everyone's going to escape, Fawn. All of us. That is, i-if our plan w-works." He giggled nervously. "Actually, the plan scares me half out of my mind, but... I'll try. And that's what counts, i-isn't it?"

"Of course!" Fawn squealed. "But _how_?! And - " another gasp - "what do you mean our? Who's helping you? Did someone else escape? Oh spirits this is _so_ exciting!"

Drop laughed a little, seeming to relax slightly. "No. I'm on my own. But I do have help... inside help."

"Who is it?" she pleaded.

He shook his head. "I can't tell you. But I will tell you something. You'll give a message to your friends, won't you?" His voice seemed to take on that special quality voices do when they're speaking to young kits. Fawn nodded eagerly. "Tell them I'm still out here, not that far away, and... a-and I'm going to help them. Tell them... tell them they have more allies than they think."

With that, he began to walk away, leaving Fawn in an empty clearing with a pile of bones. She was suddenly desperate not to be alone again for who knows how long. "D-Drop! Wait!" she called out.

He turned. "Yes?"

About to ask _can you stay with me_, but then realizing that would only get him caught, she squeaked out shyly, "Wh-what does 'allies' mean?"

He responded amusedly, "Friends, Fawn. It means friends."

Then Drop padded off, for real that time, and Fawn was on her own again, mouse scent still wreathing through the air, her mind full of fantasies.

* * *

The day dragged on and notions of escape still floated through her mind. Oh, hadn't she tried? The past few days on her own, she'd trekked as far as she could, past the tumbles of rock, into the leafy forest where her friends sometimes hunted. But she seemed to go in circles, and by this morning she was almost too weak to keep searching for a way out...

"Heheheh... what's this?" The deep voice startled Fawn, and she whirled, tiny claws unsheathed. A huge cat loomed over her, a leer plastered on his scarred face. Ragged cloud-colored fur covered his long, muscular body, thorn-sharp teeth showing in his grin. His claws gleamed unnaturally, and she suddenly realized: this was an Elite.

Her eyes widened and she instantly crouched, overtaken by fear as she stammered, "P-p-p-lease d-don't h-hurt me!"

"Oh," another voice sounded, "_you_. Haven't found your Gift yet, I wager?" It was Sage, a cold young white-and-silver Colonist. Fawn shook her head vigorously. _Please, spirits, wherever you are, let them take me back_. A few more days out here and she'd die.

Sage snorted, as though it were her fault. "Jay told me as much. Come on, it's pointless to leave you out here any longer."

"I'll keep looking," the Elite boomed. Sage nodded, and as Fawn stumbled over to his side, he picked her up by the scruff. They hurried through the forest, Fawn rocking gently against Sage's soft chest fur, and she dimly realized it was Drop the Elite was looking for. As the soothing motion continued, the weariness of the past few days washed over her, and before she knew it, Fawn was asleep.

* * *

"_Fawn! Fawn!_" Whispers wreathed through her fuzzy mind. She shifted, whimpering softly.

"_Fawn... Fawn..._"

"_For spirits' sake Fawn, wake up!_"

She started, brown eyes flashing open. The world was a blur, several blotches of color hovering over her, but they gradually consolidated into the faces of her loyal friends. Her muzzle broke into a grin and she sprang to her paws, only to suddenly find herself incredibly dizzy; she wobbled only to flop to the ground again.

"Are you okay? Where the fox-dung have you been, Fawn?!" Fox demanded instantly, nudging the younger she-cat into a sitting position.

"Ehm... I..." Fawn murmured, for once having to take a few moments to collect her thoughts.

"You worried us," Straw muttered accusingly, though he knew it was by no fault of her own. Storm, as usual, was quiet, but his yellow eyes betrayed that his feelings were the same as the others'.

"I... um... was outside the Colony," Fawn began to explain. "They, um, just left me out there... and I w-wandered around for days... a-and I'm really hungry and..." Her eyes suddenly brimmed with tears. "It was horrible!" she burst out.

Fox moved forward, pressing her ginger fur to Fawn's, wrapping a tail around the young she-cat's body. "It's okay. You're back now," the older kitten meowed firmly, and Fawn felt a strong burst of love for her friend.

"Y-yeah..." she sniffled. Suddenly her eyes widened, remembering what she had to tell them. She stood up suddenly, unintentionally forcing Fox to back away. "I-I met Drop!" she exclaimed.

"SHHH!" Fawn was vehemently shushed by Straw, and her ears flattened. She... had been loud, hadn't she? _Did the Colonists hear? Don't let them hear, don't let them hear_, she prayed, not to a specific source, but to the world in general. If they heard she'd met Drop, whom they were fruitlessly searching for... well, even her young mind knew it wouldn't bode well for her. They'd make her tell them, and then they'd find Drop, and then everything would be ruined. Drop's plan. Their chance of escape. Everything.

"I met Drop," she repeated, this time in a whisper, and her older friends drew closer to her, in a tight, round-eyed, fiercely interested circle.

"Where?"

"How?"

"What did he say?"

Fawn straightened a little, already becoming closer to her self. "Well," she mewed proudly, in a semi-loud whisper, "I was just wandering around and he found me. He gave me a mouse," she added, as though this detail were quite important.

"What did he say?" Fox demanded.

"Why hasn't he left yet?" Storm asked.

Fawn brushed away their queries with a wave of her tail and went on, clearly enjoying herself, "Well, he's not going far away," she meowed, "not yet. You know why?" Her eyes gleamed, waiting for someone to ask...

"Why?" Fox demanded (her voice often came across as demanding).

"He's going to help us," she breathed, and at this point she dropped the whole mysterious-awesome-holder-of-information guise, because the excitement of this statement was simply too much for her. It overflowed into her voice and body and suddenly she was bouncing on her paws, squealing as quietly as could be reasonably expected, "He's going to help us _escape_!"

You could have heard a whisker drop. Her friends stared at her, eyes wide, awe filling the air. "E-Escape?" Fox whispered. "He's going to help us... escape?"

"But how?" Straw cried.

Storm's eyes were round as he waited for her response, whiskers quivering with excitement.

"I don't know exactly how," she whispered vigorously, "but he said he isn't alone. He has someone helping _him_. He's the one who told me to tell you all this," she added. "What did he say? He said... he said... 'you have more all-lies than you think'." She stumbled slightly over the still-unfamiliar word.

"Cats outside the Colony," Storm suggested, remarkably calm for the situation, but he was Storm, who, despite his tempestuous name, was nearly always calm.

"Could he have?" Fox exclaimed. "Who would be helping him?"

Straw's whiskers twitched. "I've heard stories, about other cats," he meowed. "C... C... Not Colony, but..." His face was screwed up as he desperately tried to call forth its name.

"Clan!" Fox blurted out. "That's it, right?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Straw nodded enthusiastically. "Some of the others told me about them... Slate and Sky, I think. And Jay," he added, "Jay's mentioned them once or twice, hasn't he?"

"I remember that," Storm meowed thoughtfully. "They're weird. Slate has told me that they're complicated and fight a lot, but are also noble."

This entire time Fawn had been watching on the sidelines, silently absorbing the information, like a sponge, but now she bubbled up again. "Wow! That's so cool! If they're noble, I bet they're totally gonna bust in and rescue _all_ of us!" she enthused.

"But - " Storm again - "could Drop have reached them in time?"

Silence suddenly reigned in the den. Fawn felt deflated, her bubble popped. If the Clans weren't helping Drop, who was? "H-how far away are they?" she ventured.

It was several more moments before anyone answered, and when they did, it was Straw. "I think... aren't they... over the rocks? ...In the other direction from the forest?"

"But he was in the forest when I saw him," Fawn mewed heartbrokenly.

"He still could have made it!" Fox asserted. Her eyes darted from face to face. "It's been several days. Right? None of us know how long it takes! Besides," she added, voice dropping to a quieter level, "Drop wouldn't lie. And he wouldn't stick around the Colony for nothing."

No one could argue with Fox's last two points. Still, though, Fawn's mind raced, questions endlessly peppering her skull. Were the Clans really helping Drop? If not, who the heck else was? How many of them were there? Who would Drop help escape? Would he help everyone? When would he come to save them?

And most importantly... would he succeed?

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**A/N: And now you know why I made them do that to Fawn. Because she could meet Drop, mostly. (Actually I was planning it before I thought of it, but there wasn't really a point to it then. :p) I'm starting to like Drop a lot, actually, even though he wasn't planned to be a main character.**

**The big escape thingamabob is coming soon... so what do you think? Is it the Clanners or isn't it? ;D**


	5. NOT AN UPDATE, JUST SOME NEWS

**Hey, guys. I'm going to be posting this, or something like this, on all of my serious stories. I feel like I owe my readers an explanation.**

**So, there hasn't been an update in quite some time, and there may not be for a while longer, either. Doing NaNoWriMo was a really good experience for me, and I'm proud to say that I met my word goal of 30,000 words within the month (though the story itself isn't finished). It kind of revolutionized how I think about writing stories in general. And the experience left me pretty burned out creatively. At this point, my creative juices have had time to recover, but I'm kind of taking a step back and thinking about where I want to go with everything, and how I want to tackle story-writing from now on. Aside from that, my regular life is pretty busy as well; school, of course, and tons of homework from advanced math, and the exercise program I'm doing.**

**I haven't given up on these stories or decided to abandon them. However, for the time being - and I suppose this is very familiar to you guys, isn't it? - they're being put on the back burner. It's kind of ridiculous that some of these are nearing their one-year anniversary. I guess they kind of ****_have_**** been on the back burner this entire time, since I proved to myself in NaNoWriMo that I can write really, really quickly if I have to. '^_^**

**Well, anyway. I've been thinking that to really get something done, I need to take a more NaNoWriMo-esque approach. I think long stories in the future will be handled differently. I'm thinking I want it to be finished ****_before _****I start posting it online. That way, I'll know if it's something I really want to do, there won't be loads of delays, and I won't be disappointing people by taking breaks or abandoning it after I lose interest.**

**Now, I do plan to get these stories past the finish line someday. After all the work I've put into them already, it would be ridiculous not to! Here's hoping that this message can be replaced with a shiny new chapter before too long.**

**_Note to Ride the Wind readers: This is probably the story I'm least enthusiastic on, sorry to say. I like the characters and stuff a lot, but I feel it's pretty cliched. I'm actually thinking about abandoning it. It was supposed to be part of a series which is, realistically, too long for me to finish. Plus I have a really exciting Warriors project I want to start soon. However, I'm thinking of doing a "revamp" of sorts, where the series is condensed into a long book or two._**

**~ x-SwiftyGirl-x**

**January 2013**


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